To Have Ridden the Savage Land
by gluegirl56
Summary: A missing scene to one of my favorite episodes "Ride the Savage Land" of this wonderful Western show - I know this has been done before by talented writers but I wanted to write one myself nevertheless. I hope you enjoy! These are Victoria's and John's reflections.


**The High Chaparral – To Have Ridden the Savage Land**

 _Disclaimer: I don't own anything about the series and this is purely for fun. I realize that this has been done many times before, by many talented writers, but I wanted to contribute with a story of my own. This is a tag to one of my all-time favorite episodes – "Ride the Savage Land"_

 _Feedback is greatly appreciated. I would love constructive criticism as well since this hasn't been betaed. Perhaps then, I can become a better writer. Enjoy the story!_

 **ooo HC ooo**

John Cannon sighed as he stared out in the desert landscape, the moon casting long shadows over the barren mountains in a faraway distance. A few larger Saguaro cactuses stood out in the otherwise dusty landscape, towering over them in the semi-darkness. It had been a long time since he'd been this troubled. Behind him the boys where sitting around a small campfire, well most of them anyway. Ira and Reno was scouting, constantly letting their eyes roam over the surrounding area, looking for any sign of Indian soldiers despite Buck's assurances that the soldiers of Tobar's tribe would leave them alone.

Musing about how to tackle everything that had happened and how to tell Victoria that her brother was critically wounded John Cannon turned around towards the campfire, feeling every year of his age.

His eyes settled on his son, his brother and his brother-in-law. Unconsciously he clenched and unclenched his hands as he walked toward them, his jaw setting and his eyes turning cold. The relatively young Mexican was unconscious, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath as Buck softly tried to rouse him from his delirium. The little girl, Olive was there too, sitting close to Manolito, looking worried. Blue had taken up a position next to the girl and was gently trying to comfort her by squeezing her shoulders. However, John wasn't so sure who the gesture brought the most comfort too – Olive or Blue.

He realized how much they'd all begun to care about each other, the Mexican brother and sister and his own brother and son. How they'd slowly become a family, after what had started off so badly; with Manolito first came to his rescue and then took off with his horse. How he'd met the eccentric Don Sebastian de Montoya and then been introduced to his daughter, namely and to his own surprise, Manolito's beautiful sister. How a marriage of convenience had been instigated.

John's own stubbornness had nearly ended the whole marriage affair before it had started but then slowly something started to grow between them; a feeling of mutual love and trust. He'd grown fond of his beautiful Mexican wife and her cheeky, yet somewhat lazy big brother. John suspected that Manolito first decided to come along with his sister out of curiosity and that he felt a need to protect her. Manolito was easygoing and soon both his brother and his son had felt a connection to the man. Blue saw up to him, thinking he and Manolito shared a love and a respect for their respectively stubborn fathers while Buck just appreciated his company as a compadre – a real friend – something that didn't grow on trees as far as his stubborn brother was concerned.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw his foreman coming toward him, approaching him somewhat hesitantly.

"Boss," Sam began, his voice full of worry. "Mano is in no condition to ride."

John nodded sadly as he glanced over Sam's shoulder to take note of the feverish Mexican. "I know, Sam," he said sternly.

"With respect, I know that Buck thinks it'll get faster back to the ranch with Manolito in the saddle next to him but shouldn't we send for the buckboard-," he lowered his voice so that what he said could only be heard by John Cannon alone. "Look at him, those are ugly wounds inflicted by the whips, without proper treatment soon-"

John nodded and pursed his lips into a thin line of displeasure at hearing what he knew to be true out loud. "I can only hope that Joe finds Doctor Plander in town, that the good doctor is not out on call somewhere remote. I know Victoria and Vaquero would take good care of him but I'd rather have a professional tend to him," he said than changed subject. "I'll have to agree with Buck on this one Sam. I don't know of course, but I think it's safe to assume Mano's injuries are not internal, and since he's already in and out of consciousness there would be little more harm having him in the saddle with my brother. The sooner we get back to High Chaparral the better. I'm afraid an infection could set in at any time."

"If it's all the same to you, boss, I think all the boys will saddle up and ride through the night if you say so," Sam encouraged. "It'll be a long night and they will be tired but if it increases Mano's chances of survival that's the least we can do. Besides, the moon is giving us good and useful light."

"Let's do it," he said solemnly. "Victoria would never forgive me if I brought her brother back dead."

"I'll give the order," Sam suggested with a nod and then headed in the direction of the campfire.

Watching his foreman retreat John Cannon added under his breath; "I would never forgive myself."

 **ooo HC ooo**

It was just before noon the next day when the search party, that had set out for Buck and Manolito returned to the ranch with the two men and the young Indian slave girl. The sun was blazing over their heads, the heat in the Arizona desert almost unbearable for all of them.

Victoria took a deep breath, trying to gather herself as she saw them, her attention called on by the ranch hand in the watch tower. Joe Butler and the Doctor had arrived only hours before despite that the distance had been much shorter for them. It meant the others had been riding both day and night. It troubled Victoria deeply what Joe had kindly told her about her brother's condition and she felt that it was more to the story than he would let on.

She didn't know what she would do without her brother, she loved him with all her heart. She might argue with him on occasion and smack him over the head if she felt the need too but life would be very empty without him by her side. It simply wouldn't be the same. She knew of course that there would come a day when he might settle down with his own family or take over their father's Hacienda, and all the responsibilities that followed, but she wasn't ready to lose him now. Not after they'd finally found each other again, not after he'd finally settled down and made a decent life for himself without those terrible comancheros that he'd liked to spend a lot of time with before and not when he seemed to have found a great friend in her husband's stubborn brother.

Then, suddenly, Victoria felt a presence beside her and turned to see that the older girl, Ann, had come to stand next to her, awaiting the arrival of the men and her sister. A tear had sprung from Ann's eye as she stared out over the barren landscape, her eyes seemingly transfixed on the child that was sitting in the saddle in front of Blue.

In an effort of consolation Victoria gently sneaked her arm around the younger woman's shoulder. Ann gently averted her eyes from the arriving party and looked deep into the brown eyes of the beautiful Mexican woman beside her, her blue eyes mirroring the sorrow, worry and anxiety. Ann gently turned to hug the other woman and felt a slight tremble, her strong façade crackling.

Then everything happened so fast, the brave brother being whisked away, his sister following while the doctor started issuing orders, leaving Ann alone with her kid sister on the patio. She wrapped her arms around Olive and tried to sooth her worries but the sobs that wracked the little body made her ache inside. While she was overjoyed at having been reunited with her sister there was a growing sadness and concern for the men that had rescued her and she slowly felt that it started to overshadow the relief she'd been feeling the minute earlier.

Ann looked up just in time to see Buck stop at her side. He nodded slightly, politely lifting the tip of his hat in a friendly greeting. "I told you we would bring her back," he said wearily as he slowly sauntered into the house.

Ann continued to hold her sister in a strong grip comforting her the best she could as she stared after the kind man that had been true to his word. She could only hope that the prize he'd paid hadn't been too high.

 **ooo HC ooo**

One hour later Victoria Cannon de Montoya was still sitting idle next to the fire in the living room, having just come from the room in which the girls were resting. She stared into the warming glow of the flames as they licked the black walls inside the fireplace, trying to keep her mind off the mistreated body of her brother. Doctor Plander had ushered her out of the room as he had started to tend to Manolito, despite her protests. John had gently led her down the stair and away while Buck had stayed behind to lend a hand, downright refusing to leave the doctor alone.

"Victoria," John said seriously as he handed her a drink.

She looked at him questioningly. She seldom had a drink but at the moment she relented and took the glass from him and began to sip its content, grimacing as the strong liquid burned down her throat.

"Oh, John," she whispered and it was easy to hear the despair that she fought to contain. "Those wounds, they're all over his chest and…and back," her voice rose with every word she spoke, the matter at hand too upsetting for her.

Without a word he sat down in the chair next to her and wrapped his strong arms around her. Silence settled over the room, only to be broken by the light sparkling of the fire. She was trembling in his arms, vulnerable all of a sudden to an extent she'd never let him see before.

"He'll be all right, Victoria," John finally said, his voice strangely assuring as he gently stroke her back with his hands.

"He better be, John," she mumbled, then added in a stronger voice. "Then I'll kill him myself."

The door to the room suddenly opened, revealing the good doctor, his features grim. Both Cannons, husband and wife, got up as he walked down the small stair to stand next to them.

"How is he?" Victoria finally managed, afraid of the answer.

Doctor Plander sighed and rubbed his forehead wearily, contemplating on what to say. He turned to look them in the eye.

"I have cleaned the wounds the best I can but the deepest ones have been infected. I've dabbed the red and swollen areas with iodine," he said.

Victoria swallowed and gripped John's hand, waiting for the doctor to continue.

"It is lucky that the infection was caught so soon, that way it will be easier to treat. I'll stay for the day and tend to him some more. I'll show Vaquero how to do it," he said slowly, scrutinizing her for a moment. "I think it's for the best if Vaquero do that."

Victoria nodded faintly.

"He's developed a fever due to the infection. I'm not pleased with it but I'm confident that it will subside in a day or two. Like I said, I believe we caught it in time," explained with a cautious smile, trying to assure the man and woman before him that it was the truth.

"So," she began carefully, feeling her hope rising. "He'll be all right?"

Doctor Plander nodded seriously. "I foresee no complications to a full recovery. However, that is provided he'll take it easy, keep away from the sun and heat for a while and that he's not taking a ride for the nearest week or two."

Victoria smiled for the first time in days at the news. "I'll see to it that he's kept inside, or at the very least that he does not leave the ranch!" she assured him sternly yet she couldn't keep the relief out of her voice.

The news that Manolito would get well again swept like a wild flower through the ranch, turning the somber mood that had settled over it into joy and relief.

 **ooo HC ooo**

Doctor Plander had been true to his word and stayed the day, he'd even spent the night at the ranch so that he could tend to Manolito the next day too. He'd then showed Vaquero how to dab the wounds on his chest and back, with the help of Buck. How to boil the water and add the iodine solution. Victoria had argued that she could do it but the doctor had been adamant that she wouldn't be allowed to do it to spare her the pain she would feel when inflicting more agony to her brother. However, that didn't stop her from visiting him and to gently remove his damp hair away from his forehead and whisper Spanish words of encouragements to him, begging him to come back to her, to fight off the infection ravaging his body, weakening him even more.

The night when the good doctor left was the worst for the Mexican siblings as Manolito's fever rose and he succumbed to delirium once again, speaking of things Victoria knew nothing about, mixing the three languages he was fluent in. Victoria had cried herself to sleep that night after Buck had forced her out of her brother's room, taking the wet cloth from her to continue the dabbing of his forehead, upper arms and upper chest.

When Manolito finally awoke the day after it was to the semi-darkness of an early night. He ached so, his skin felt like it was on fire, but at least he was home, more importantly, he was alive. Craning his neck slightly he saw a black clad cowboy dozing in a chair next to his bed.

Manolito smiled before it turned into a wide grin. "Buck. Amigo," he rasped, his mouth dry. "Since when have my company been so boring that you have to go to sleep?"

Buck opened his eyes into slits, his lips curling upwards as he smirked. "Since when do you have to sleep so long, Compadre?" He asked with delight, looking relieved.

Mano looked at him in surprise and frowned as he struggled to get into a more comfortable position.

"Easy, Mano," Buck cautioned. "You've been quite sick, there is no rush to go and undo all the work Doctor Plander, Vaquero and myself has put into your recuperation."

"?Como esta?" Manolito heard himself ask wearily as he saw the tiredness in the other man's face.

"I should be the one asking you that, Amigo" Buck answered. "Let me tell you this straight, Mano. I've been worried sick about you ever since that bunch of happy Indian soldiers tied you upside-down to that pole back there in the camp."

"Don't sound so upset, hombre," Mano cautioned with a thin smile. "Like I told you; I've always wanted to know how brave I was."

Buck harrumphed. "Yeah, and brave you were or otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation you - idiota," he replied.

Mano sighed tiredly the smile on his face vanishing. "Believe me, Buck. It was much better this way, I didn't have the courage to see you in my position. I would have ached with you. I would have cried out while you didn't." He said seriously. "Amigo, don't you see? It is you who are the brave one."

Buck suddenly turned angry. "Don't you dare turn this thing around, Mano," he said fiercely as he stabbed a finger at the Mexican's bare chest. You bear the marks of the brave one, not me."

Mano nodded slowly, knowing there was no way he would set his friend straight, not right away. "How's the little Chiquita? Olive?" He asked.

"Doing well I suppose, during the circumstances," Buck let on solemnly. "It's been one hell of a ride, Mano, for both of them and for all of us."

He nodded and whispered something in a language Buck didn't understand.

"It is all over now," Olive translated for him as she appeared in the doorway to the room. She nodded at Manolito, her eyes spoke of trust and respect for him. Then slowly she turned to Buck. "It is the language of the Apache, Mr. Buck. It means that it is all over."

Buck Cannon smiled as he looked from Olive to Manolito and then back again. "Yes it is," he let out in a relieved voice. "Although I wish it had never happened in the first place."

 **ooo HC ooo**

Victoria glanced toward the doorway at the sound of footsteps and saw her husband walk into the house. "Did Jack get through to them, John?" She asked.

He nodded thoughtfully as he placed his hat on the sideboard just inside the door. "Yes, they're on their way as we speak," he said, talking about the US Cavalry.

The minute they'd learned about the massacre of the Cavalry soldiers, John had ordered one of the newly hired ranch hands that rod with them in the search for Buck and Manolito to ride over to the nearest Cavalry base and alert them of the situation.

"They will not be happy when we tell them that that overconfident Colonel and his team has also been killed by the Apaches," John added sourly thinking about what his brother had told him. "It's hard enough to try and keep the piece around here without renegades, comancheros, the Cavalry and the Indian scouts."

"I wonder," Victoria mused sadly. "Will there ever be peace?"

John snorted. "Now, Victoria –" he began but then shook his head and walked up to her instead to put his arms around her middle.

"By the way, the Cavalry has promised to escort our Indian slave escapees to civilization where they belong," he added sternly as he glanced around the empty room. "Where are they by the way?"

"Oh, John," Victoria said joyfully. "Ann is resting, the poor young woman is exhausted. And I think Olive sneaked into my brother's room."

He studied his beautiful wife for a moment and then smiled. "You look awfully cheerful this evening," he deduced.

"Manolito is awake and lucid," she let on, her dazzling smile lighting up the room. "I heard him talk to Buck just now."

Big John Cannon turned to look in the direction of the sleeping areas upstairs and, as he strained his ears, he could hear subdued voices.

They shared a look of joy and happiness.

"Madre dios," Victoria let out in relief as she melted into John's strong arms. "I think everything is going to be all right."

 **ooo HC ooo**

Two Days later Victoria angrily put down the tray she'd been carrying on the table. She turned to stare at the form of her brother as he came walking slowly down the stairs clad in his regular outfit except for the jacket.

"Manolito," she began, her voice lilting yet the undertone confirmed her anger. "Where do you think you're going?"

He looked at her with a large and happy grin. "Out, Victoria, I need to see the sun," he said.

"No, you'll do no such thing," she admonished, fearful that he would tear some of his deeper wounds open and subdue to fever once again or that he'll suffer a setback for getting out of bed too early.

He momentarily stopped, frowning slightly as she walked up to stand directly in front of him, hands on her hips. "Manolo, you have been sick, very sick, and I don't- "

"Ah," he interrupted her rant and the speech he knew would come. "With the emphasis on have been, my dear sister," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral as he planned to sidestep his sister.

However, Victoria was faster and his path was once again blocked.

"Get out of the way, Victoria," he said in a low and threatening voice.

"Manolito you'll not go outside!" Victoria exploded as she started to wave her hands in the air, then a rapid exchange of Spanish words followed before Manolito gently, with a grimace, got past his sister and disappeared out through the door.

The commotion brought the attention of Buck and the little girl Olive.

Olive turned to look up at Buck in confusion. "What was that all about, Mr. Buck?" She asked carefully.

The younger brother Cannon knelt down next to Olive and lifted her up, placing his hat on her head. "I guess, little one, that it's their way of telling each other that they care deeply about one another," he explained with a chuckle. "Come on now, let's head outside and see the new horses that was brought in by the boys yesterday."

 **ooo HC ooo**

"Seeing something Blue?" John asked as he strode up to his son, overlooking the barren landscape that stretched for miles around the ranch.

Blue jumped slightly having been so intent on watching out for the cavalry that he hadn't heard his father approach him. "I thought I heard the cavalry signal," he explained before his voice was drowned out by two arguing voices.

The Cannon father and son turned curiously to their left to see Manolito stalking, somewhat painfully toward the corral, having spotted MacAdoo, with Victoria tightly at his tail. The exchange of words was rapid and in Spanish, both siblings looking equally annoyed and furious.

John and Blue shared a frown then they broke into a chuckle, shaking their heads.

"I don't care, Manolito!" Victoria shouted, having suddenly switched to English. "I worry about you, that is my right, it is the same as when you worry about me you stubborn – burro! Would you at least put on the hat and, where is the sling you should be wearing?" She asked.

"Victoria, Poor favor, I don't need a baby sitter. I'm old enough to take care about myself," Manolito returned, his voice raised to match hers.

"I never thought I'd be happy to hear them fight," Blue admitted with a smile.

John gently slapped his son on the back. "It seems everything is back to normal around here, and not a minute to soon."

 **ooo HC ooo**

The end ;)


End file.
